


The Spirit is Willing

by Mad_Maudlin



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-22
Updated: 2010-01-22
Packaged: 2017-10-06 13:36:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mad_Maudlin/pseuds/Mad_Maudlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is up for some fun. Ron, not so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Spirit is Willing

**Author's Note:**

> This is really a repost of a fic that originally went up on [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/mad_maudlin/profile)[**mad_maudlin**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/mad_maudlin/) untitled and un-spell-checked. I hope I corrected the most egregious errors here. For [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/annchen/profile)[**annchen**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/annchen/) and [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/snoopypez/profile)[**snoopypez**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/snoopypez/); one wanted massage smut and the other wanted Harry and Ron to get some action.

"I think I'm dead," Ron announced as he shuffled bow-legged into their room at the Burrow.

Harry looked up from his notes with a smirk. "Something go wrong at practice, Your Majesty?"

Ron flopped dramatically onto his bed and glared. "When you've spent fourteen hours on a broom, you can tease me. Not now." He shifted a bit and winced. "Good thing I'm not worried about having children..."

Harry snickered and folded a scrap of parchment to use as a bookmark. He had applied to the Ministry after Hogwarts, just as he'd always intended, and was currently in training as an Auror; Ron, however, had decided that he'd had enough of fighting the Dark Arts, something Harry didn't begrudge him in the slightest. It had been surprising, to say the least, when the Wigtown Wanderers had offered him a trial, but their blood-red robes looked good on him, and Ron seemed to fit in immediately with the rest of the team. Officially he was just a reserve, but since their starting Keeper was rumored to be pregnant, the odds were good he'd get real playing time soon. It was quite impressive for a player just out of school.

All this meant, unfortunately, that he was being run into the ground at practices. "D'you want to complain about your day first, or shall I?" Harry said, moving to sit next to Ron.

Ron snorted. "What've you got to complain about? You said yourself all you do is sit around with your face in a book." His tone of voice clearly conveyed his disbelief that Harry would take a job that involved even more studying once he was out of school.

"Oh, no, today they changed it up a bit," Harry said casually. "I got attacked by a mad zombie in the wizard's room."

"What?" Ron's head popped up in alarm. "In the _Ministry?"_

"Well, it was actually Tonks, and everyone else knew about it—supposed to be a test, I think."

Ron muttered something into the pillow, then asked, "Did you pass?"

"I'll put it this way: if Tonks can't make her hair grow back out, I'm in trouble."

Ron snickered at that and flung an arm around Harry's shoulders. "Should've known better. Monsters in toilets—that's first-year stuff." Harry smiled and turned his head, nuzzling the developing calluses on Ron's hand. Ron traced one finger over Harry's bottom lip, and he took it as a cue to suck it into his mouth. "Mmm. You're trying to tempt me."

"What can I say?" Harry sank back on the bed to lay next to him. "It's the exhilaration of combat."

Ron groaned. "Just my luck you'd be extra randy tonight."

"Anything I can do to put you in the mood?"

"I'm always in the _mood,"_ Ron grumbled. "The spirit's willing, mate, but the flesh is in serious pain."

Harry propped himself up on one elbow and ran his hand up Ron's chest. "Anything I can do to help?"

"I dunno. Massage? Potion? Maybe just Stun me for the next eight hours or so?"

"Massage..." Now _that_ sounded intriguing. Harry climbed up again, so that he was straddling Ron's thighs. "Anywhere in particular?"

Ron smirked up at him and settled back against the pillows. "Harry Potter. Don't tell me you've been off a broom so long that you've forgotten where it hurts."

Harry chuckled, and started working the button on Ron's fly.

He pulled down Ron's jeans and grasped the elastic of his boxers when the redhead stopped him with one hand and fumbled for the wand he'd dropped on the nightstand. _"Tacito,"_ he said, flicking it towards the door, _"Shalomora."_ The lock clicked audibly shut.

"I'm the one who's supposed to be paranoid," Harry said, only half-teasing.

"Just being careful," Ron replied. "I don't think I could deal with giving Mum a heart attack tonight."

Harry only shrugged. Ron was absolutely convinced that no one else knew they were together; he, personally, was convinced that several people had to. Hermione knew _everything,_ after all, and surely George didn't believe they'd really been wrestling the day he'd stumbled upon them in the garden? And even if they hadn't been slipping up constantly, well, Mrs. Weasley did their laundry—she must've noticed by now that only one of the beds in the room was getting any use. Not to mention the stains on the sheets. But if they knew, they all acted as if they didn't, and Ron seemed eager to take their apparent ignorance at face value.

"Well, if we're going to go to all that trouble," Harry said, and started opening the buttons on Ron's shirt.

Ron chuckled. "You're just looking for an excuse to get me naked."

"If I really wanted to, I wouldn't need an excuse..."

Harry pulled one of Ron's legs into his lap and started to gently knead the tight calf muscles. Ron grumbled and bit, but settled back on the bed and let his eyes drift shut. Harry was careful to give the leg nearest to him a careful working-over before moving onto the other one. "I think you have forgotten how to fly," Ron said drowsily.

Harry stopped and glared at him. "Do you want to me do this or not?"

"Just saying you should come to practice some time," Ron replied, and then he yawned tremendously. "All that Auror stuff'll start to look like a cakewalk."

Harry decided that if he wanted his partner to be awake by the time they got to the good part, he had better hurry things up a bit. He shifted positions, then let his hands drift up to the pale, nearly hairless part of Ron's inner thigh, and started to work on the sore, tight muscles underneath. Ron groaned deliciously and shifted his hips into a better position. When the redhead's cock started to rise, Harry knew he was on the right track.

He deliberately moved high enough that his knuckles brushed Ron's balls, then abruptly switched to the other leg, starting over again at the knee. Ron groaned. "You're teasing me."

"Do I know how to ride a broomstick?" Harry asked lazily. He let the tip of his pinky finger run up along Ron's perineum and behind his sac.

"Oooh...you can ride mine whenever you want, I know that..."

Harry gave up the pretense of massage and straddled Ron's leg, rubbing his own erection against it before he wrapped his hand around Ron's. Ron sighed and raised his knee just enough to give Harry a proper angle. It was curiously endearing, seeing him like that—completely relaxed, mouth open and eyes shut, one arm folded beneath the pillow while the opposite hand pulled at Harry's shirt, drawing him closer. That expression of blissed-out vulnerability was not just endearing, it was mildly exciting, and Harry braced himself with his free hand so he could bend forward for a kiss.

"Mmm...love you," Ron mumbled, then jerked his hips and came with a moan.

Harry carried on until the cock in his hand started to soften, at which point he felt obligated to roll off. Ron pawed groggily at his fly. "S'alright," Harry said, brushing the hand away.

"No...s' th' gennelmanly thing..." Ron slurred. Maybe.

Harry shifted away and squeezed the hand he was holding. "You'd doze off before I was done anyway," he said, feeling unusually generous. Or maybe Ron just looked so sweet in a pile of disheveled blankets that he didn't want to disturb anything.

"Mmmmk'y..." Ron yawned again. "g'nnnnn...."

Harry smiled as Ron's breathing went deep and even almost instantly. Then he set about quietly fetching himself off in his hand.

After cleaning everything up, he gathered his books and slipped downstairs with only the slightest pause to admire the view—Ron sprawled naked on the bed, ready to sleep through a goblin revolt. There was a slightly longer pause as he assessed the view and decided pull up some of the sheets, for propriety's sake. If by some miracle the Weasleys _didn't_ know yet, there was no need to spring it on them now. He trotted down the steep stairs towards the kitchen, hoping faintly for enough coffee to get him through the rest of the assigned reading before midnight.

He nearly collided with Bill on the stairs. "Oh—sorry!"

"No problem." Bill clung to the banister until he got his balance back. "Is Ron in the shower, by any chance? Mum says his cauliflower's shriveling."

__

Funny, it looked fine to me, Harry thought, then mentally slapped himself. Maybe he should've let Ron finish him off after all. "He went straight to bed. Totally knackered."

"Ahhh." Bill's usual easy smile sudden took the mischievous bend that served to remind people he shared blood with the twins. "And did you tuck him tightly?"

"He's a big boy now, you know," Harry said, trying not to get distracted by the wallpaper.

"Of course." Bill turned around and descended a few steps. "I'm sure he's sleeping quite soundly, with or without your...help."

Harry stared after the retreating ponytail for a long, long time, before shaking his head. Bill _had_ to know. Didn't he? Shaking his head, he plodded downstairs in search of his coffee.


End file.
